Again and Again (BakuDeku)

Chapter Two

       There were few things Katsuki understood about Izuku. He knew a lot of things about him: he knew that Izuku didn't like spicy food; he knew that Izuku worshipped All Might as if he were a god; he knew that Izuku loved his mom more than anything; he knew that Izuku's favorite color was red even though he wore a lot of green; and he knew that Izuku was Quirkless.

       But there were few things he actually understood about Izuku. He didn't understand how Izuku could be so determined to become a Pro and he didn't have a Quirk; he didn't understand how Izuku could always be so cheerful when Katsuki had never done anything except make his life a living Hell; he didn't understand why Izuku never seemed to hate him; and he didn't understand their current predicament.

       Another thing he knew about Izuku: it seemed that he was unable to die.

       They didn't test it out, of course, that would be stupid, but what Katsuki could gather from what Izuku had told him, he couldn't die. The first time he thought it was a fluke, a failed attempt he felt worthless for. The second time, however, it raised questions.

       The obvious answer, the one that screamed in their faces, was that that was Izuku's Quirk. It was ironic: Izuku wanted a Quirk more than anything, and not having one meant he was worthless, and now that he wanted to die, the very two things he ever wanted went against each other. Izuku's Quirk was that he couldn't die and as morbid as that was, Katsuki had to admit that was probably the coolest fucking thing he'd ever heard of.

       At the same time, he couldn't dwell on that as much as he wanted to. A week after Izuku's two attempts at killing himself; he wasn't doing as well as Katsuki and Izuku's mother would've liked.

       Katsuki knew a lot of things about himself too: he was strong, he had a powerful Quirk, he was smart, and he was prideful. He was prideful and insecure and that made for a much more dangerous combination than if he were just one or the other. He hurt his oldest friend because his head was too big and his heart was too small. He was trapped inside himself and, in return, he chained Izuku to him too. If he was going to hate himself, he'd make Izuku hate himself too. It was only fair.

       Almost a decade of abuse and torment couldn't be erased in a week, and while Katsuki knew that, it didn't make any of it any less frustrating.

       Katsuki had stayed with Izuku until Inko got back from work the next morning, calling his own mother to let her know that he was staying at a friend's house so he wouldn't hear her bitch about it for the next five lifetimes. When Inko walked into the door and saw them both in Izuku's room, asleep in the same bed like when they were kids, instead of at school, she was curious and concerned; rightfully so. It was even worse when Katsuki forced Izuku to give his mother the letter he'd prepared for her. She read it, not out loud thankfully, but her quiet sobs were enough for Katsuki to know that the letter was meant to be a proper goodbye. He didn't open the letter Izuku had written for him, deciding that he wanted to wait until he was alone and could make any face he wanted.

       Inko was quick to check Izuku into a psychiatric hospital where he could be properly treated. Without the personified sun roaming the halls between classes and sitting a few seats behind Katsuki in lessons, everything was...quiet. It was louder, but it was quiet in Katsuki's head. He never thought it would be so quiet in his own brain before. He decided after two days that he didn't like it.

       Inko wasn't angry at Katsuki, though he suspected that she wanted to be. He guessed that Izuku had talked to her before he left. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. She even allowed him to visit Izuku with her. It was only a city away, a short trip by train. With the enthusiastic approval of his mother, Katsuki was boarding a train with Inko.